


two minds.

by Icanwritesee



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, John's SO queer and Sherlock's SO smooth I can't even, M/M, a bit of nfsw, also OMG are they TALKING?!, just read it, just teensy bit, no more information because I'm a horrible person with a horrible handwriting, so many feels, what can I say I love them, yes they are!, you'll like it promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6247294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icanwritesee/pseuds/Icanwritesee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson liked his job. it was reliable and made him feel useful. but then he met the one and only Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some high school AU for some time now, and today I sat down and did just that. here's the first chapter, I'll want to write another two as soon as possible. probably. also, _don't even get me started on Parade's End._
> 
> enjoy, lovely ones <3

_**“In every man there are two minds that work side by side, the one checking the other; thus emotion stands against reason, intellect corrects passion and first impressions act a little, but very little, before quick reflection.”** _

_― Ford Madox Ford, "Parade's End"._

 

I liked my job. really, it was fun. I was a college teacher. that wasn't what I originally wanted to do with my life, but I was lucky enough that it turned out to be the best decision I could make. especially when you consider the appearance of new Music teacher. oh, that one. he was... something new.

\- John? I thought you had classes in the afternoon? it's only ten in the morning... I winced, hearing that. yeah, Mike was good at these kinds of statements. _yes, Mike, thank you for reminding me that I've no other life besides teaching..._  
\- hello, Mike - I did with my mouth what was normally considered smile, but for me, it didn't feel like that. - oh, you know how it is, I had a fucktone things to grade and home wasn't exactly the place to do it.  
Mike grimaced empathically.  
\- Harry's having her famous performances, then?  
\- more like she's efficiently making my life Hell. but yeah, she's good at it.  
\- I'm sorry, mate. but I think I'm free tonight. fancy a pint later?  
I nodded. I could really use one.  
\- I'm done with my students at six, so I can drop by your office on my way out and we could head to pub? - I offered. Mike clapped his hands.  
\- perfect - he answered, stretching his thin lips in a happy smile. he peeked at his watch; realizing he was just running late for one of his classes, Stamford started collecting papers that seemed to be essential for his course. - sorry, gotta dash, I'm having first-years and God knows one can't leave them alone with _anything_... later?  
\- ta - I confirmed, aleady starting to feel less sick. getting on with my work for the morning proved to be almost impossible; not when I felt someone watching me. ask any teacher - unwavering attention is _always_ suspicious.  
I raised my eyes from Patrick's test to find precisely no one - I was alone in the cafeteria because everyone already left for their classes. still, I knew something was off; fending off another bite of paranoia, I made myself return to the task at hand, grading Patrick's test in that case. my student obviously thought he failed the test if one was particularly paying attention to what one's students wrote on the margins of their tests. I huffed a quiet laugh to myself at reading amusing little notes such as: 'I'm a dumb shitfuck, should've been studying when mum told me to', and wanted to write some kind of witty answer to them, but I suddenly felt someone joining me at my lone table.  
\- hello. Sherlock Holmes, I'm a new Music teacher here - _oh_ , that voice should be illegal for the things it was doing to me. rich like molten chocolate, swiftly erasing from my mind Patrick's hilarious self-pity. I wasn't even _close_ to bracing myself to look at stranger's - Sherlock's - face, but I did it anyway, and _oh_. his name was the least unusual part of my current companion. where do I even _begin_? his eyes seemed to pierce everything, my very own _soul_ included; their complex colour mix reminded me a bit about rainbow, but they were _so much more_ than the mere rainbow. tumbling raven curls that looked like silk. my skin itched from the desire to run a hand through the thick ringlets. I allowed myself a second to imagine that happening, and soon enough, I had to fight my painfully dry throat.  
and oh, my God. those _lips_. I could write poems about them. not very good ones, mind, but still; their beauty ought to have its own place in literature. I've never seen such dramatic, perfect arcs and dips that looked as if drawn by hand, almost unreal and created to pout or kiss the Hell out of them. I certainly was inclining towards the latter one, if I say so myself.  
one corner of his pink, full was now slightly raised in a little smile as he was calmly assessing me. only then I noticed his impossibly sharp cheekbones, and all those pieces of his look simply took my breath away.

\- so... - I answered, becoming aware that my staring consumed a tad too much time to be comfortable. _nice touch, Watson. very clever. now the man is going to think you're an idiot._  
I cleared still dry throat, trying to arrange my mouth into friendly smile. - my name's... John Watson. I teach... Biology. nice to meet you.  
Sherlock smirked one more time, leaning fractionally closer to me. I could swear he looked me up and down, and that thought alone fluttered happily somewhere around my stomach.  
\- tell me, John Watson - sinful baritone dropped even lower, making me enjoy the sound of my own name rolling on his tongue. damn musician, _of course_ he perfectly knew what he was doing to me. - do you like Chinese?  
\- are you asking me out? - I responded, finally snapping back to my full mental abilities. - as good as it sounds, I can't go because I'm _busy tonight_.  
\- I know, Mike there was going to grab a pint with you, but you're going out with _me_.  
\- that's awfully cocky, you know that?  
\- doesn't make it any less true - Sherlock gracefully shrugged without breaking eye contact that sent warm sparks through my nerve endings.  
that bastard.  
\- besides, you're too pretty and sadly, still too angered to go back home tonight, where your alcoholic older brother took your sofa up for himself after going out from his wife. you liked the wife, so you're currently not speaking much to him. or rather, _he's_ not speaking to you because you didn't take his side when it came to the court room.  
did he just say I was _too pretty_?

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the misterious date happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horrible person for making you all wait that long for chapter. it's just, real life got in the way. first, I wasn't even at home and I planned to do some writing, but I couldn't concentrate on actually _doing_ it. and then, when I came back, I just wasn't able to concentrate _at all_. for weeks.  
>  this chapter was... very problematic. took me weeks to write, but I think my torment was worth it. I think you'll like the porn.  
> I'll... work on the last one as soon as I can, promise.  
> also, sorry for the cliffhanger ;x  
> enjoy.

  
_5 minutes and 45 seconds._

quick glance at my watch confirmed my suspicion that yes, it was only three minutes later than I last checked. I sighed, once again concentrating on my students working quietly in pairs. my brain was too fried to think about anything more creative for the double classes.  
_  
5 minutes and 30 seconds._

how could I agree to going out with Sherlock Holmes? this was so wrong... or even worse, inappropriate. could lead to straining our professional relationship. that would be... in a way bad.  
_I'll just... go and cancel the thing. because of the work reasons. yeah. sounds like a plan. go, me._  
crossing the classroom from my place behind the desk to the door took me an indecent amount of three steps, and even then my internal battle carried on precisely like for the past hour or so. I reached for the handle to open, but before I could do it, loud sound of ringing bell informed me and everyone else in the building of break.  
after my students rushed through the door and I was able to leave the room, I found myself facing slender chest clothed in an obscenely tight white shirt with first couple buttons undone that I somehow missed, being overwhelmed with his face only. I swallowed thickly, reluctantly tearing eyes off the constellation of moles adorning his milky skin.  
\- Sherlock? did you need anything?  
\- I... wanted to talk.  
\- oh. okay. you can join me, then - I answered with a wave of my hand that I decided I would have to immediately stop doing. Sherlock's expression of puzzlement set the feeling of deep satisfaction somewhere in the middle of my chest, and pushed me to smile a bit at the sight alone.  
two could play that game.  
\- it's just coffee, Sherlock. I'm not proposing or anything... - words came out of my stupid mouth eluding brain in the process. cool. he curiously cocked his head, studying me attentively. something in my face must've told him what he wanted to know because he suddenly started to look much more smug than few minutes earlier, when I found him in front of the door. he clapped his hands once and turned around, smoothly changing into a bundle of frantic energy I haven't seen yet. before I even had the chance to comment the shift in his behaviour, he left me standing there, dropping only 'come, John!' in my general direction.  
mumbling to myself something about how much I hated that wanker, I locked the door and followed him outside.

*  
   
\- it's a coffee. on the grass.  
\- your observational skills are truly astounding, John.  
of course he would keep teasing. I had a sneaking suspicion that was somewhat his second nature.  
I rolled my eyes, but sat beside him on the lawn. he smiled, handing me paper cup with my coffee. we both sipped our coffees in surprisingly companionable silence, but I could tell that under the surface, he was nervous if clawing at hand was anything to go by.  
\- spill it out - I nudged him. - you wanted to talk, I'm listening.  
fidgeting didn't end immediately.  
\- why do you want to go out with me, John? - he suddenly asked after a little eternity.   
\- I thought that was fairly obvious... - I frowned a little, confused at the look of incredulity written all over his face.  
\- tell me anyway.  
my head nodded while my lips took a sip of perfect coffee.  
\- so, you've clearly made a big impression, and I'm not just talking about the way you look... which is... wow, but... it seems like you're the only person who can look at me and see me the way I am, not the masks I put on. dunno if that makes any sense?  
\- surprisingly enough, it does.  
before I knew it, I was being positively manhandled to a standing position and Sherlock once more became familiar ball of energy.  
\- you're taking the rest of the day off - he informed me rather than asked, not taking his hand off my wrist, and I found myself drifting in air beside him.  
\- good to know. and _why_ exactly would I do such thing?  
\- I'm taking you out for a dinner and then you'll pin me down to the mattress and fuck me into oblivion - that statement alone was more than enough to make my trousers less comfortable, no matter the casual tone of his voice. he looked at me with smirk plastered on his face. - come!  
\- uh... I would rather you buy me a dinner first. y'see, I'm not _that_ easy.  
dangerous glint in his eyes told me that I needed to start being afraid. funny, danger was always the one thing sure to make me come running, and Sherlock Holmes seemed to be the very epitome of the word.

* 

half an hour later both of us were already in headmaster's office where I stood in appropriate distance and Sherlock was pretty much sprawled on one of the guest's chairs. he didn't want to tell me his plan, and I had to come up with mine completely on my own. I was a terrible liar.  
\- I'm really sorry, Greg - I began. - you know how much I hate asking for favours, but Harry's my sister and you know how it iswith siblings... she went to a pub, and when she got drunk, someone's stole her money and I need to save her bacon before she starts selling off her own clothes...  
I'm a horrible human being, dragging my own sister in the matters concerning my penis and being laid. _eww, never thinking of that again, forbidden!_  
\- oh, I'm sorry to hear that, John! - Greg, the good man he was, looked genuinely worried by my words. - that's an awful business she's dragged herself into. of course, go and help her, don't worry about the kids. I'm sure Molly will be happy to take care of them for a few hours.  
\- thank you, Greg. you're a decent bloke - I tried my best to shape my face into a state of gratefulness muted by heavy dose of stress and worry over fabricated story. - I'll happily take extra classes in the afternoons to make it up to you...  
\- no need to, really - Greg Lestrade smiled at me reassuringly. he turned his attention towards Sherlock, who seemed to give an impression of a sick person. - Sherlock, are you okay?  
\- not really, Lestrade - Sherlock's voice didn't sound like his at all. it came out differently, like speaking was more tiring than normally. his whole body delicately shook, too. - I seem to be having an allergic reaction to lactose...  
Greg raised an eyebrow at that.  
\- you haven't mentioned you were intolerant.  
\- that's because I'm really good at pushing my transport out of its comfort zone, Graham - Sherlock snapped in a fathom of his normal self, not being able to pass that opportunity.  
\- it's Greg, you wanker - Lestrade reminded him, which only provoked an ignorant roll of eyes and low murmur of 'doesn't matter'.  
he was _performing_ in front of the head teacher. and he was brilliant.  
I shook my head in fake commiseration.  
\- my gran had a really awful case of that, one sip of cow milk was able to put her to bed for 12 hours - I sighed.  
\- doesn't he need, I don't know, to see a doctor about it? - Greg asked naively; being English teacher, allergic reactions were more than confusing for him.  
\- oh, he should be fine after a day or so - I shrugged. - I could make sure he gets home in one piece if you'd like.  
\- that's very thoughtful of you, John, thank you - Sherlock sighed dramatically, putting on his face of utter misery. I shrugged once more without comment.  
\- okay, off with both of you, then - Greg practically pushed both of us out of his office.  
Sherlock smirked, straightening up; the lactose-intolerant persona long forgotten.  
\- you're an awful liar, John.  
\- told you.  
\- as it happens, Lestrade here's too much of an idiot to pick up on that - he put on a monstrous woollen coat that would look ridiculous on any other person. - can we go now?  
I laughed out loud, leaning with my back against the nearest wall.  
\- that was... the most ridiculous thing I've ever done - I giggled, looking at him, just a couple of inches away.  
\- and you wanted to be getting shot at - he answered with similar grin, which only caused me to giggle some more.  
  
*

Sherlock really brought me home, and that home was even more interesting than the man himself. from what I could tell, the place was strewn with newspapers and magazines on different areas and in what seemed different languages, too.  
but Sherlock wasn't too keen on giving me enough time to look around his shabby flat - he pushed me against the door and attacked my pulse point with his sinful lips as if he wanted to prove a point. I gasped out loud in a tiny space, burying my hands in his rich curls, at which point his lips curved in smile.  
\- no need to... ah... be so smug... smartypants... - I rasped, surprised at the sound I actually made. he let go of my throat for a little while to look me deep in the eye. I could swear it was like feeling a rush of pure electric charge. all of a sudden, I wasn't able to look away, and the tingling in my skin only increased.  
he began to lean in, but _it wasn't enough_ for me. the only thing I felt was necessary, was to take hold of the nape of his neck and bodily drag him towards me in heated kiss. and _oh_. the world started to make sense.  
\- bedroom. _now_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before you go back to your life, may I add something as a side note to that chapter?  
> first of all, I know I'm not a fantastic author and so on, I don't give much thought to their surroundings because I think that's not important, and because I think THEY'RE the heroes of whatever story I write. I know my writing doesn't probably feel like native English speaker's does because I'm not native. throw whatever you want at me, I've got everything covered because I'm just that insecure. but that's not the point I'm trying to make. um. I just wanted to say - if any of you writes fanfiction or does whatever the Hell she/he wants, just fucking do it. don't let anyone tell you it's wrong because it's not a part of a mainstream. or that it's less than something. because it's not. and never give up hope. you hear me? never. because yeah, I was in the process of letting myself and this story go. I wanted to abandon it because I just couldn't find strength to write it. because smut is not my natural _millieu_. I started to think that maybe I shouldn't write it because I'm not that talented. the worst part was that I knew I let all of you down because I didn't update for that long. I couldn't let you down even more than I already did. so, after weeks of adding no more than 2-5 words to my document, something broke the dam and I wrote more than 1.5k in an hour, and then some more to finish the chapter properly.  
>  all I'm trying to say, is - don't lose hope. don't strike yourself out no matter what because you're the only person who can bring yourself up from the lows.  
> goshhh, sorry. I swear I'm not normally _that_ moaning... just. thank you for being there?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hanky panky and what happened after that, basically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is much more graphic and shorter than I normally write. you can blame all the hetero sex (ewewew ._.) happening in The Night Manager I've recently watched... 
> 
> thank you so much for sticking up with me for such a long time, it means more than I'll ever be able to express.

we kissed all the way down to bedroom, with every kiss more and more consumed by the little world around us. in the bedroom, he gently pushed me towards bed, where I landed with soft 'unf' leaving my lungs. Sherlock busied himself with ridding me of my shoes, not breaking the intense eye contact we were sharing. when he was done, he did the same with his own and then. then he gracefully climbed on bed and my lap, taking his time to watch me closely, like I was some intriguing specimen.  
and me? I was practically close to having some kind of stroke, if I was being honest with myself. all this  attention felt like live wire on my skin; the tingling too pleasurable to be not addictive.  
\- how did I get so lucky? - I whispered with wonderment, touching his full lips, now reddened from our kisses. he looked stunning in the sunrays coming from the window on his right - all the perfect marble skin that looked so untouchable and should be cold, like marble is, but he was _burning_. his hooded eyes were so dark and his sculpted cheeks so flushed I wouldn't know it was him if he passed me on the street. I felt proud of myself that it was me who did all of that to him.  
\- John...  
broken sigh. like every additional stimulus is too much for him to take.  
\- yes, love?  
I smiled at the dark blush from my words and puffness of his lower lip he was constantly worrying.  
\- make love to me, John. please.  
I couldn't refuse. even if I could, I was too much of an egoist to just let him go.  
   
*

 

I liked it. the feeling of warmth spread all over my skin and finally settled somewhere deep within me, softening my rough edges for a little while. this wasn't very familiar to me, but I think I could get used to it.  
I  rolled over to watch John, lying by my side with a goofy smile stretching his lips. late afternoon light seeping through my window was making his skin glow. he was the most beautiful thing I've seen in my life. he lifted one of his hands to touch me, but it was more caress than anything else, and my heart swelled at the sight of his eyes, so full of affection I forgot human beings needed to breathe in regular intervals.  
 - you okay, love?  
I nodded, leaning down to kiss him sweetly, murmuring 'fine, fine' in between the kisses.

* 

goofy smile found its way as it always did these days. normally, he would do everything to fight it, but right now he let himself enjoy the feeling. it made John look at him differently, and Sherlock never ceased to enjoy being looked at.  
his phone chimed with new message.

_dinner? JW_  

Sherlock frowned, trying to remember details of John's schedule. today was Wednesday, John's day off. at that moment of day, he was probably reading one of his atrocious crime novels Sherlock could deduct the endings from the first pages with a decent cuppa or perhaps he went to do that dull food shopping Sherlock despised because of the noise, the _people_...!  
  
_it's your day off, John. SH_  
_have you eaten yet or not? JW_

oh. slightly irritated, then. Sherlock's mind palace said to proceed that kind of John with caution.

_I may have skipped a meal. or not. SH_  
_don't be a smartypants with me, you git. JW_  
_fine. I may have join Lestrade in the cafeteria. SH_  
_join me. JW_  
_what do you mean? you're not here. SH_  
_I can't believe you're actually a genius... I. am. here. to. eat. dinner. with. you. JW_  
_oh. SH_  
_yes. oh. idiot ;) JW_  
_did you just wink at me? SH_  
_did it work? JW_  
_maybe. depends. SH_  
_on what? JW_  
_if you're flirting with me. SH_  
_I'm always flirting with you because you're too bloody beautiful for me to stay away for long. JW_  

Sherlock smiled a bit, blushing at John's praise. John was always able to make him blush no matter what he said or did by simply looking at him like Sherlock was the world's most precious and fragile flower that needed to be protected. before Sherlock left the class to join his boyfriend, the aforementioned sent one more message.

_I love you. come eat with me. JW_

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! pop in on my tumblr, I'm running under the name luckyonesjournal there :3


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